It Don't Mean Much (When You're Losing Touch)
by strawberrybear
Summary: They're both broken by themselves, but neither can understand the other. One just doesn't want to talk about it. After Courfeyrac loses it, he gives up on being forgiven by Jehan, who was hurt far worse than he thought. It's all one big misunderstanding. Rated T for suicidal tendencies and and major character death (not who you think!) Courf/Jehan one-shot! Slash. Reviews please!


**Hey all! Just writing another thing late at night and BOOM idea pops into my head in which wow this fic is perfect for this song. The song is One Day by Orange Park! Anyway...**

**WARNING: if you have a disliking of gay french boys, don't read. Slash goggles on! Also grammar and I'm terrible at tenses.**

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_Every day when I wake up_

_I don't know where I am_

_Or who I'm supposed to be_

Courfeyrac has always been bold, and loud, and rash, and flirty, but nobody has ever seen him when he's alone. On his own he's empty. He can never explain the empty feeling he gets when he lays in bed alone, staring at the ceiling of his tiny apartment. He can never understand the hollow pain in his heart that aches whenever he sits and waits all night on a park bench, and he never knows what he's waiting for.

_Everything is so messed up_

_That's how it seems to be_

_I don't know what to do_

Courfeyrac is lonely, and sad, and empty, and confused, but nobody has ever seen him when he's alone.

_And I feel so rushed_

_By my own disgust_

_And nothing turns out right the way you want_

_And you turn your face_

_When you can't see straight_

_And all the time you wish your way along_

Jehan has always been romantic, and outspoken, and independent, and brave, but nobody knows him for real. In truth, he can't speak if he doesn't see a familiar face in the crowd. He can't speak when it's one-on-one, whoever it is. He can't speak when somebody's listening. Everyone expects so much. That's why he writes it down, becuase he can't make words when somebody can hear it. He hopes one day he'll heal.

_Everyone's got something to say_

_But there's nobody listening_

_Maybe you will understand one day_

Jehan is shy, and isolated, and scarred, and scared, but nobody knows him for real. That is, until he meets Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac tries to listen at first. At first he's prying, and he wants Jehan to open up, and to be bold like he is. In the beginning, he tries to make Jehan talk, not knowing that he can't. Then there's a point where he's had enough. He only cares for his friend, who refuses to speak to him even when he knows it will help. And still Jehan hopes.

_And they all wanna give it away for free_

_What we have done_

_It's gonna get better for you one day_

That night, he gets angry. There's anger and yelling on his part and tears on Jehan's and minutes later the poet is crying on his bed, the cries becoming painful sobs that wrack his body like waves, and Courfeyrac is slamming the door on his way out, an icy dagger of regret in his heart as soon as he's on the other side.

_Every night I try to sleep_

_The sleep it never comes_

_The voices in my head_

Courfeyrac doesn't fall asleep that night. He can't make himself go back, say what he's wanted to say for so, so long. He can't apologize. Jehan cries himself to sleep. He doesn't want Courfeyrac to hate him. That's the last thing he wants. He wants him to come back, but he wants silence, he doesn't want to talk any more.

_So I sit and stay awake_

_And try to push those_

_thoughts out from my brain_

The next day Jehan doesn't show up to the meeting. Courfeyrac feels the guilt increase day by day as he misses Jehan at every moment, and regret builds each second until he decides one night to finally go back. Then he decides against it, stays home, and drinks his weight in wine. And still Jehan hopes.

But his hopes grow weaker, and the light in his eyes grows dimmer, and that spark he once had was gone. His mask is faded, and before he knows it, it will be gone. He doesn't go to meetings, he barely talks to anyone. He stays inside for a week, insisting on staying even when Éponine comes over and tried to carry him. He buries himself in drinks and soon he finds broken glass to be a comfort.

_And it's all too much_

_And it's not enough_

_And I could never make it on my own_

One day Éponine finds him with cuts in his arms. That night is filled with tears and loneliness, and Jehan takes comfort in what would usually break his heart - that at least somebody else is lonely. So he sits and listens, because she understands without a word what he wants to say, what he doesn't want to say. Yet he doesn't love her. They both mourn the loss of a love that had never been. That is the last night that he hopes.

Éponine has troubles of her own. The next day she's found dead in a ditch, from what looked like a gunshot wound to her shoulder. They have always known her father was a terrible person, but they never expect him to do this. Justice is carried out and Thénardier is sent to prison.

The funeral is a quiet affair. Only her friends and siblings are invited to it. There is no mention of God or of Heaven, because she wouldn't like it. Courfeyrac is surprised when Jehan doesn't read a poem. He knows there are extensive collections of them in his notebooks, he's seen them when- He wouldn't think of it. He never apologized, and now he may never get the chance. Éponine was always smarter than him, but now he can't depend on her advice. He gives up on the notion of ever being forgiven.

_And it don't mean much_

_When you're losing touch_

_With everything and everyone you know_

That night Courfeyrac is dead drunk. Jehan carries him out the front door of the café, and calls a cab to bring them back to his apartment. When he manages to get him up the stairs and into Jehan's bed, he tries to sleep on the couch. He can't fall into the dreams he wishes he could have again, happy dreams of when they were friends, best friends, when he may have had a little hope. So he resigns himself to the dreams of his waking hours, nightmares that haunt him. The ghosts of a memory play out a scene from months ago. He's convinced Courfayrac hates him. Now, as he sees his friend's sleeping figure, it looks troubled, as if something was disturbing him. Jehan started to think that maybe he was the problem.

_Everyone's got something to say_

_But there's nobody listening_

_Maybe you will understand one day_

Courfeyrac wakes early the next morning, 4 or 5 when it's still dark out, to the sound of sobbing coming from the kitchen. He doesn't know whose kitchen, until he realises Jehan must have taken him back to his flat. Jehan! He starts rushing toward the kitchen, but slows down as soon as he's sat up. From there he makes his way slowly to his feet, tracing the floral pattern on his bed. He is terrified when he sees a pool of blood on the kitchen floor.

"JEHAN!" He shouts, seeing the poet kneeling on the tile with a piece of broken glass in his hand. There are cuts all up his arm and tears streaming down his face as he looks up at him with a fear in his eyes he has only seen once before - the night he left him there, crying and alone. How could he be so blind? What Jehan needed was a hand to hold. He didn't need to say anything when he was sad, but he needed somebody there to comfort him. The guilt overflows in his heart as he falls to his knees.

"Jehan, Jehan!" He whispers, trembling, tears now falling from his eyes as he holds the poet's face in his hands. "This-this is my fault, it's all my fault!" Jehan drops the shard of glass from his shaking hands and lifts them to Courfeyrac's wrists, gripping them tight as if he's the only thing he has to hold onto. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I never meant-" he can't force out the rest of his words. "Thought you h-hated me... N-never came back..." Before Jehan can finish his fragments of speech, he's pulled into an embrace. Courfeyrac holds him like he'll disappear if he lets go, and he, too, clings to him with one hand. The bleeding has stopped after a while, but the tears still fall.  
"Don't do this, please, don't do this to yourself!" Courfeyrac begs. He is answered with the two words he never wants to hear come from the poet, his sweet Jehan, who he only ever cared for. "Why not?" It stings like whiskey to a deep cut falling from his lips. To this Courfeyrac pulls away from the embrace and holds his face tenderly once more, looking down with a sad smile, sums up all his courage and says, "I know it isn't half a reason, and hard to beileve, and I know I havent shown it... but I love you. I've loved you since the day you walked into that café, and I promised myself I would never let you go. And I broke it, Jehan, I broke it. But that's not half a reason, is it? Oh, it's all my fault..." Then, he gets the answer he never expected. "It's enough, it's m-more than enough, and it was the reason in the first p-place," the poet whispers into the air between them. "I have always loved you too."

_And they all wanna give it away for free_

_What we have done_

_It's gonna get better for you one day_

There's kissing and then there's more crying, and there are new promises made, for a future together. The guilt is gone, the fear replaced with joy. They spend the day in silence as Jehan makes pancakes, since it is a Saturday, of course, and what Saturday is complete without pancakes and your boyfriend and possibly cleaning blood-stains from your kitchen floor?

_One day_

It's five years before Courfeyrac proposes, the way he knows Jehan's always dreamed. He brings him to the top of the Eiffel Tower and starts singing All I Ask of You from Phantom of the Opera, and during the part when Raoul and Christine kiss, he gets down on one knee and gives Jehan a ring engraved with roses and a diamond set in the center. Jehan says yes.

_One day_

Their wedding is a quiet affair. Afterwards they go with Azelma and Gavroche to the place where Éponine has been buried - under a willow tree that covers her from the rain. A single white rose is placed on her grave, a thank-you, an apology. Jehan goes home with Courfeyrac - and he hopes.

_One day._

**Hope you enjoyed! Sort of depressing and OOC, but still shippy I guess! Reviews are much appreciated! keep writing mon amis!**

**-janey**


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